


il était une fois

by thebaldunicorn



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon is so mean to my boi, Gen, It's hard being an Oscar stan, Spoilers: Volume 8 (RWBY), Volume 8 episode 9 spoilers, after 8x09, just a bit of merging of souls, no death here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaldunicorn/pseuds/thebaldunicorn
Summary: Here is what Oscar has; magic, and an idea.Here is what he knows; he can fix this. Not everything, not much, but he can fix this, here and now.He can stop her. He can stop Salem from killing his friends.Post 8x09 AU.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

Here is what Oscar has; magic, and an idea.

Here is what he knows; he can fix this. Not everything, not much, but he can fix this, here and now.

He sees the fear on Ren's face, the worry on Jaune's. He spots the tell-tale sign of Yang's human arm shaking.

Salem is holding Hazel up and she's killing him and she won't stop -

And Oscar's grip on his cane tightens.

He thinks about what he said to Oz earlier, about them merging, about how he's still not ready. All of that - well, it doesn't wash away when he makes his decision. There's terror in his limbs and a frantic beat to his heart that he cannot deny, certainly not to Oz or himself.

And yet. And yet.

Oscar has the chance to protect them. He has a chance to do the right thing.

This is greatness; this is the world needing help and him reaching out a hand.

This is him doing what he can for the people that he cares about.

It's that simple when it comes down to it. It's that straightforward. Not easy. Just simple.

Perfectly simple.

When he focuses, Oz gently guiding, the power builds up within him immediately. It isn't like last time. It's easier. It's fiercer. It's much more destructive.

He and Oz think and act in tandem as they use what little energy remains in their tired, exhausted body, and they yell as the power surges forward in a burst of magic light.

Salem screams.

She drops Hazel, staggering back a step from the pain.

Oscar and Ozpin press harder, thinking no. Thinking, just a little more.

Someone shouts,

"Oscar!"

Distantly, he thinks that Hazel is stumbling away. He wonders if that's what they were waiting for. He wonders if this will kill him.

He wonders if they will merge.

He thinks of that hug, of Jaune's arms around him and Yang's hand gentle on top of his head, and he closes his eyes against tears. 

Then he lets go. 

Green explodes against the backs of his eyelids. Bright bolts of electricity the color of summer grass spark and spark until they cover everything in sight. It is their magic, their power, and their last ditch effort to separate Salem from the people they love.

Last time, they used their magic to save themselves. This time, they will use it to save everyone else. 

The world turns white as a horrible static sound fills his ears, and then they are gone.

....

_"- you're not alone, sweetheart."_

_"I know. I know that I'm not, but it still feels like it sometimes. And it...it hurts."_

_"...I get that. I miss them too. I'm not trying to tell you how to feel and I-I-I know I can't replace them. ...I guess all I really wanted to say is that I'm here for you, Oscar. I will always be here for you."_

_"Thanks, Aunt Em."_

_"That's something you never have to thank me for, Oscar. That's just what you do for the people you love."_

_"...oh."_

_"Yeah. 'oh'."_

_"I uh -" A sniffle. "I love you too."_

_...._

_"Come on, I've read you that one about a hundred times! Don't you want to read something else together?"_

_Laughter._

_"But I really like that one! It has a happy ending and everything."_

_"Oscar, honey, these are fairy tales. I promise that every single one of them is going to have a happy ending."_

_"...but some of the others sound scary."_

_"Sound? What, does your mom never read you any of these others? Never? In this big big book?"_

_"...they sounded scary."_

_A sigh. A mutter._

_"Annie, what are you doing with this boy..."_

_"Hmm?"_

_"Listen up. We've gonna read something new tonight and we're gonna like it."_

_"What if - what if it gives me nightmares?"_

_"It's just a story."_

_"But -"_

_"Look, do you want a bedtime story or not, Oscar?"_

_"...yes please."_

_"Then settle down and listen. This one's a good one, I promise. It'll end happy and everything. Now, once upon a time..."_

....

Once upon a time, there was a man who fell in love, then fell sick and died.

Once upon a time, a man freely accepted a task which he'd later come to consider a burden and a curse.

Once upon a time, he hears a voice in his head.

Once upon a time, he _is_ the voice in someone's head.

Once upon a time, Oscar's turn came up. He is the latest in a long line of like-minded souls and it's such an odd thing to feel so touched by destiny and yet so trapped at the same time, like he is nothing more than the next in a line of unoriginal copies. He is both special and exactly the same as the rest.

He is Oscar and he is Oz again, just smaller and weaker. 

Though it wasn't what he wanted at first, Oscar couldn't fight fate. He didn't really want to.

He craved something more than a simple life - he wanted purpose, and an opportunity to make the world a little bit better.

It's unfortunate that he hadn't realized what exactly that would cost him. It was far too late to regret that now.

This is the middle of the story, or the end, and Oscar doesn't know how it will go.

He can't see them getting a happy ending like the fairy tales he used to read about. When he tries to picture it, the image won't come. 

Or if it does, it looks like a time far into the future, where the present is nothing but a terrible memory and all its scars on all his friends have almost healed. 

Somehow, he is not there to see it. He's not there at all. Not in anything he can picture in his mind.

It's not quite a surprise to imagine his story ending here, ending now, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Setting a bone is not a surprise, yet it's pain will still shock anyone.

Oscar doesn't want to die. 

He doesn't want his story to end here.

He doesn't want to die. He really really doesn't. 

But isn't that where his story was heading from the beginning? Isn't that how their story always ends, ever since Ozma?

Or perhaps he's been looking at it all wrong. Perhaps they don't even get an ending at all. They only get once upon a times, over and over and over again.

As much as he fears his own end, that sounds even worse.

For what story is complete, without some kind of ending?

....

They are falling when he wakes.

It's a slow process - not the falling, but the waking. He blinks and blinks, and then he feels his fingers twitch (still working, great) and most of his toes, and he inhales which only hurts a little, and then -

Then he screams. Because he's falling. he's crashing down, down, down and the ground is quickly approaching. This is never the ideal way to regain consciousness.

Come on, he thinks.

Please, he thinks.

The cane is still hooked in his belt, thank goodness, and he reaches for it and concentrates not a moment too soon. A shield crackles to life barely a second before he would've hit and bounced off the ground. Without an aura and with his current wounds, that would not have been good.

As it is, he stumbles and skids and roughly collapses, alive but even more bruised than before. His ankle throbs, twisting the wrong way as he slows to a stop.

His chest burns and burns.

"We're alive." He gasps out.

We're alive, the voice in his head echoes.

Oscar wants to laugh hysterically, break down into tears, then pass out for six months. They are alive.

As it is, though, he is just done. Everything in him is gone. Only relief and exhaustion remains.

He can't get up. He can't. Instead, he curls up small and feels his eyes slip closed as he wonders if everyone made it out okay.

He loses consciousness, clinging to that last thought.

.....

It is not a merge. It is a memory. It is a revelation:

Her hand was warm in his. 

So, so warm.

It was a gesture they practiced a thousand times over as they traveled, out of comfort or joy or just for the simple pleasure of it. They used to walk for miles hand-in-hand because they could, because they wanted to, and everytime the other reached out, they were met with a smile and acceptance.

That was back when they didn't feel the need to save the world or destroy it - back when simply seeing it together was enough.

Another memory: a crown weighing heavy on his brow and blood staining the sword in his hands. 

He wonders about how far he's fallen. He wonders if it is still righteousness that he fights for.

He sits on a throne and he commands peace to spread, but he cannot truthfully say he's earned it. It cannot be said that he did this the right way.

If she has heard about this, wherever she is out there - would it make her smile? Destruction is destruction, no matter the cause behind it. Would she laugh at how often he repeats the same mistakes?

He doesn't think he could bear that. And what sense does that make?

How is it he can despise someone so much and yet think of them constantly? How is it that he still wonders what runs through her mind and what she thinks of him, when they have killed each other too many times to count?

If she stood before him now, he would use all of his considerable power to try and end her, or at the very least to make her suffer. Yet he longs even still to have her reach out her hand, and hold his gently as she once did.

What sense does that make. 

Another memory; he's tired. His bones creak and his beard itches and he refuses to move, to eat, to live.

They are so, so old. He is so, so tired.

So what if Salem wants to destroy everything he builds. So what. Time would destroy it all eventually anyway.

Why shouldn't he let her? What has humanity done for him lately? Who is left that is alive and knows him?

He is alone. He is utterly alone in the world, in his small hut on the edge of nowhere, and he waits for his death and next reincarnation with furious impatience.

Perhaps the grimm will sense his negatively and take him out. Perhaps he will simply wither away.

It doesn't matter. Alive or dead - his existence will never end. What a curse the gods have bestowed upon him.

Another memory, not long after; he's laughing. His bones still creak and his beard still itches, but he's laughing for the first time in years.

These girls - no, these young women - they shine so brightly. They have so much hope and compassion in their eyes that it hurts to look at them.

Was this how he used to be? Is this simply how all young people are? When did he lose that spark, he wonders, and it surprises him how much he wants it back.

They remind him of a long ago time, when four other girls shone bright in his life. They had hope too.

Helplessly, happily, he gives them the power he had never wanted to use again. They have the drive to do what he won't; they have the compassion to use it wisely; and they will do more good than he ever could, because they at least still care.

He'd forgotten, how good it feels to care.

The women accept his gift, but...they were just as happy when he'd simply thanked them for their kindness.

They would have been perfectly content with nothing but kind words. On those alone, they would have returned to visit him.

What strange and marvelous creatures people are.

Perhaps....perhaps he is not quite ready for death after all.

Besides, he still owes Spring that chess match, and Summer was going to give him that dessert recipe, and Fall wanted to hear another fairy tale, and Winter wanted to meditate with him again.

He can't go just yet. He has something to live for again.

Memories flood his mind faster;

A warm home. Children held close and the woman he loves beside him. They are not safe and he has more work left to do, but he is so so happy -

A boy's laughter. Cool metal in his hands. His brother helps him build his new cane, helps him add hidden gears and tricks to it. There are no secrets; first, between the three of them, then between the two. 

The brother loves them, loves him, and it's such a shame. It's probably what gets him killed in the end, and it's why he begins planning a system of hunters, so no one will ever have to feel the same loss that he does.

It will take academies and armies and lifetimes, but he has the time -

A wide office. He's found such purpose here. He's found friends. He trusts them, somewhat - he trusts them as much as he dares. It feels like flirting with disaster.

Even after all these centuries, the sting of betrayal never fades. Humans are capable of greatness and loyalty. But humans are also prone to doing terrible, horrific acts out of fear.

He tries to keep heart open and his own paranoia down, but he tells no one everything. He hands out small pieces of the story, one at a time, and hopes it is enough.

Leonardo, and Theodore, and Ironwood - he makes them headmasters and lieutenants. He tells them about Salem, about the relics, about reincarnation, about a secret and ancient war.

He does not tell them there can be no real end to this war. He does not dare -

A farm. Small and worn. Filled with warm summer days and warmer evenings. Strong arms hold him close, and fairy tales spoken in a soft, lilting voice lull him to sleep. He felt so safe there, so loved -

These are memories. They are all his memories. 

He breathes everything in, and it doesn't hurt. It feels familiar. It feels right.

He wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 'il était une fois' is french, meaning 'once upon a time'.
> 
> I love my boy Oscar okay, and I need him to be okay. So I'm writing the fic I want to see in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

They walk into the whale on a mission to save Oscar.

They do not walk out of the whale with Oscar.

Ren is utterly convinced Jaune would have stayed behind, fighting and fighting to grab hold of Oscar even until the moment Winter charged in with the bomb. There is no fear in him that Ren can spot, but there is so much worry. So much _care._

It is clear to see, now that he's looking; Jaune is determined not to lose anyone else.

And yet, Jaune does not stay behind, because Oscar and Salem disappear. One moment Oscar is telling them all to run, and the next, green energy - no, green magic - explodes across the space. When Ren's vision clears, both Salem and Oscar are gone.

Just gone. Not hurt or bleeding or dead, but gone.

There's nothing they can do with 'gone'. You can't even really mourn with 'gone'.

Ren feels numb as they run out of the whale. He can tell Yang feels the same, and worry and confusion cloud Jaune's aura like a snowstorm.

"Winter is coming with a bomb. We can't help anyone by dying here."

That's what Jaune had said, the moment before they flee the scene. He'd said it so level-headed like, so calmly. Only Ren could see how much it killed him to leave.

With them are Emerald and Hazel - and Ren does not trust them, but he watches the fear pour off of them in waves and he knows they want to leave too. He can trust that, at least.

Plus, maybe one of them could tell them what's going on - and maybe even where Oscar went.

They leave the same way they came in. They are not alone, but they cannot call their mission a success either.

Where, Ren wonders as they leave.

Where did Oscar _go_?

........

When he wakes, he knows what has happened. He knows who he is. He knows the details of all of his many, many pasts. He knows his fears, his friends, his mission.

Strange but...he doesn't feel gone. He doesn't feel like he is suddenly complete. Nor does he feel erased, like he always imagined he would when the merge happened.

Inside his mind, it is quiet and calm and full to the brim of everything they - no he - has ever experienced.

When he thinks and lists all the names he's ever had, he feels something at each of them. They are all like comfortable old clothes he forgot he used to wear. Some of them even make him smile. And yet the one that still fits best, the one he would like to cling to just a while longer -

It's Oscar. Funny, that.

He is Ozma, and he is Ozpin, and he is all of them in between -

But he is also completely and utterly Oscar Pine. That is what he will remain while in this body; that name is something he is not ready to discard.

What an odd thing to cherish; a simple name. Yet cherish it he does.

Oscar Pine opens his eyes. He half misses that voice in mind advising him on what to do next, comforting him, keeping him company. He supposes he can give himself advice now, seeing as he now knows everything Ozpin did.

"You're alive." He tells himself.

"Perhaps...this isn't what we wanted. But we are alive for now and we - _I_ \- have to make the best of it."

Bad news; he cannot force himself to his feet. He tries, he truly does. With a grunt, he rolls himself onto his stomach, trying desperately to claw forward, to climb up, but the second he clamors onto his knees they give out and he collapses back down.

Oscar stills for a moment. He breathes in the air and realizes, slowly, that it is warm. Too warm.

This cannot be Atlas weather, which is freezing even during the summers.

Oh. There is grass beneath him, staining his knees and gloves.

"How far away did I send us..." He wonders, quietly waiting for the energy needed to stand to come to him.

Perhaps he cannot kill Salem, and certainly if she had remained in Atlas she would have come after them all again and again, demanding Oscar tell her how to get at the Beacon relic - and oh, right, he has that answer now so there is an actual something she could torture out of him - but he _could_ send her away. He could _drag_ her away. He doesn't imagine she knows the spell, nor could he imagine she would have any use for it.

When you have all the time in the world, why would you bother teleporting? Why would you ever need to be somewhere immediately when waiting for years at a time doesn't bother you?

He's never seen her use it before. Oscar doesn't think he's ever used it on her before either. Often, he is killed before he can. Often, the battle is over for his side anyway, so there is no point.

But he wonders - with Salem gone, and her forces turned loose, does Atlas stand a chance? She wouldn't be commanding her whale to continually replenish her grimm forces, but the ones already there are not few in number. Plus, Cinder is still out there. Tyrian. Mercury.

Oscar wonders. His ankle throbs, like perhaps he twisted or broke it in his fall, and he still can't inhale without stuttering in pain from the wound on his chest, and it's probable at least one of his ribs is broken from Hazel's fists.

He's...he's not going anywhere, not for a while.

He cannot aid Atlas's fate nor can he witness it, not as he is now.

He can do nothing but wonder at this point.

Left with no other option, he (slowly and painstakingly) rolls himself over onto his back, and he gazes up at the sky. It is blue and bright, perhaps only noon by the position of the sun.

Oscar shuts his eyes. He's missed the sun. In Atlas it feels so far away, unable to do much more than provide light - the iciness of the climate chasing away any warmth.

Here, he can feel it on his face. Here, it warms him from his cheeks to the tips of his toes. It almost feels like home - like the farm. It feels like the bright summer sun that used to give him freckles.

He loses track of time, lying in the grass. Eventually he begins to doze, which should be impossible with the worries hammering away in the back of his mind, but with the sun's rays on his skin and beautiful greenery around him, sleep proves impossible to resist.

He jerks awake at a hand on his shoulder.

"Kid? Hey, kid, are you okay?"

  
Someone's talking to him. Someone's shaking him.

"W-what?"

He scrambles backwards, weak and weary. No. No, he's not in Atlas anymore. That's not Salem's voice, either, calm down. It's alright.

"Hey. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

He thinks so. The voice sounds nice but...it could be anyone. He focuses his vision on the figure who stayed put when he moved back, the figure who has their hands up in a sign of surrender.

It's a man. Oscar's eyes catch on a belt of ammo around his waist and his brain makes fast judgments about who he is and why he's here.

Instinctively, his hand goes to the cane, though his limbs tremble when he tries to lift it. Even if he can't fight - it brings him comfort, to hold it close.

The man's eyes go wide in recognition. Oscar's vision finally focuses on the man' s features and his shoulders slump with relief. He knows this person. Or, he doesn't - he _does_ \- he _used_ to. Something.

It's a mess. The name is clear however - as is the memory of his laugh, his team, and especially his daughters.

This is Taiyang Xiao-Long.

"That cane..." Taiyang has his daughter's eyes. Or rather, she has his - in shape, in the sincerity found there. The way their emotions are laid bare.

"Oz?"

"It's uh...Oscar, actually. Oscar Pine." He says. That is the first thing he's said to this man in months. No, that's the first thing he's _ever_ said to Tai.

No, that's -

This is confusing.

He presses a palm against his eyes as he lets his head flop back onto the ground. A headache is brewing.

"I could...use some help." He admits.

....

Taiyang helps him.

The man doesn't ask many questions - most of them amount to, 'are you in immediate danger that I need to worry about' and 'will it hurt you more if I carry you' - and then he's scooping Oscar up and briskly striding away.

He's a good man, Oscar remembers. A kind one.

A huntsman and teacher at Signal.

_Signal_. That's in Patch, right off the coast of Vale, isn't it?

  
Well then.

He certainly teleported far from Atlas. Salem should be equally as far, although she doesn't seem to be here with him. His spell was not precise. The intent was for those involved to be sent away - and he thinks his exhaustion may have turned it into an effect not unlike pushing two magnets together. They repel each other. He did send Salem far away, but the push-back effected him too, teleporting him in an opposite direction.

That had been a distinct possibility when using that spell. Times were desperate and he does not regret his choice.

He does feel more than a little awkward, though, weak and limp as he is in a halfway-stranger's arms.

  
"Not to sound ungrateful..." Oscar winces as a particularly heavy footfall jars his ankle. "But um - where are we going?"

"My house isn't far from here. I guess you've never been there before, huh? Or - Ozpin's never been there."

Oscar doesn't know how to explain what's happened. It's impossible to know where to begin. He keeps quiet for a moment instead.

"I guess I shouldn't have assumed, huh? You have his cane. You knew his name. You even sound like him a little." Tai says, a strange look on his face. "But I should ask. You _are_ his reincarnation, aren't you?"

  
Oscar cannot find it in him to lie, not to Taiyang.

"Yes. I am."

"Huh. Weird. So... how did you end up all the way out here?"

The man knows about as much of the truth as Qrow once did - partly because whatever Ozpin told Qrow would have made it to Tai eventually, and partly because team STRQ had been the previous team RWBY and he'd _wanted_ to trust them with this.

Tai knows of the relics, the maidens, and Salem. He knows Oz reincarnates. He knows Oz has some degree of magic.

How would he feel if he knew that his daughters had become intertwined with Oz's mission to stop Salem? How would he feel to learn what Ruby and Yang have been through, the dangers they've been in, and all the losses they've suffered?

Would Tai hate him for that?

Would he think as Hazel did, that it is a pointless cruelty to train children to fight? The world is rough and terrible, and they should know how to protect themselves, and they should be given the choice of whether to fight Salem, even knowing the odds.

But Oscar - no, Ozpin - didn't quite give them that. He didn't give them the entire truth. Does that make his mission cruel? Does that make his students casualties?

Oscar doesn't know. His mind feels jumbled, conflicting thoughts and feelings churning and churning inside him.

  
There's guilt, obviously, but he doesn't know if it belongs on his shoulders. If he possesses the memories now, does that make him responsible? Is it still his fault if his hands didn't do those things, even if he recalls doing them?

Oscar can't know. Vaguely he can dig through his mind and find memories of him struggling before with the merge, of him wondering about his identity just as he is now. It does no good. It is the same as telling someone who is sad that they have worked through it in the past and will surely be happy again; it does nothing to help the feelings in the _moment_. Logically, he understands things will sort themselves out in his brain. Emotionally, he just wants this entire confusing headache to stop.

More than that, he wants to hold on to all the best parts of himself as he moves forward.

He, as Oscar Pine, wants to continue to value truth. He wants to continue to value trust.

He wants to hold on to who he is, but he also wants to do _better_. They may have made more mistakes than any man, woman, or child, but that doesn't mean he has to keep making the same ones over and over again.

Can he hold himself to that?

Can he do better?

"I was fighting Salem." He tells Tai eventually. "I knew she would keep coming after me, so I used my magic to send her far away. It...sent me away too."

"Salem - wait. You...you were in Atlas?" Tai's voice breaks on the word. "You - do you know what's happening there? H-have you seen Ruby? Yang? Are they okay?"

"I -"

"There was this message, from Ruby, that went out to pretty much everyone on Remnant. It was on just a couple of hours ago actually and she looked fine, but she was saying that Salem was there in Atlas and....things were bad." Upon closer inspection, Tai's eyes look red like he's been crying. That makes it all the worse when he levels those eyes at Oscar.

"Her message - it cut off. Is she -"

Oscar waits. Tai can't seem to finish the thought. He can't seem to bear it.

"The last time I saw her, she was fine." He replies in a quiet voice. "Yang too - she was okay. Both of them were alright."

Oscar can feel the way tension seeps out of Tai's limbs, can hear the deep relieved sigh he releases at Oscar's words.

"They're okay." He hears Tai mutter to himself. "Thank _God_ , they're okay."

Something bubbles up in Oscar's chest, slow and strong, and it is not pain this time. Not physical pain, anyway. If Tai saw Ruby's message, then that means Amity Tower launched and they were able to spread the word about Salem. If it cut off before the message could finish -

That could mean a lot of things. Not very many are good.

Even so, the feeling bubbling up doesn't dim. Oscar knows Ruby. He knows what kind of a person she is and he has no doubt that she will make it through this alive.

He has hope.

They're going to make it through this. They have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Surprise Tai! I don't know if he was out of character or not, but I'm writing this story for the audience of me, so it's whatever. If you did read this, thank you very much.  
>    
> So quick theory time:  
> I'm of the opinion that the merge will look more like Oscar gaining Oz's knowledge and memories, rather than Oz taking over. I don't think Oscar will fade away or lose his personality. It'll just be a more mature Oscar who can use magic, is my theory. I also think he'll keep his name - in the same way Ozpin had the people closest to him call him 'Ozpin' instead of 'Ozma', even when they were alone. Part of it was his secretive nature, true, but I think another part is that it's the name he identified with, too. 
> 
> So Oscar's gonna stay and Oz will 'disappear'. Oz even says, 'I am changed. But my memories stay with me.'
> 
> Just my personal thoughts on the matter!


	3. Chapter 3

Yang hugged her sister an hour ago. 

Not only Ruby - she embraced every single one of her team the moment the door to Schnee mansion opened. It almost led to an attack, as she went right in without so much as a hello and some of her team hadn’t registered her before being tackled. No one got hurt, though.

Or...no one got hurt from _that._

Yang finds herself hugging Ruby again and again throughout the night, both for the horrible look in her sister’s eyes and for the complicated emotions swirling inside herself. Would Ren be able to pick them all out, she wonders, if she asked him? Would he be able to tell her what and why?

It isn't even clear to her at this point. It’s all too much to deal with. It’s all just a huge mess.

  
  


But Ruby is safe. She's alive, pretty much unhurt, and they're back together. Their friends are back together. That's all that matters.

Blake's okay and Weiss is here, and that's about the end of the good news.

Turns out Qrow is in jail. Penny’s messed up. Plus Nora keeps going in and out of consciousness. Since they stormed into Schnee manor, Ren has not left her side, and Jaune has not left his.

Meanwhile, Oscar is still gone, Emerald and Hazel are still _here,_ awkwardly avoiding conversation, and nearly every single person in the manor is too worn out to fight anymore tonight, despite the battle continuing outside. 

Yang supposes she was wrong. There's a little more good news, in that Salem doesn't seem to be in Atlas anymore, and that Whitley apparently authorized cargo ships to start flying people from the crater up to Atlas. Which - good for that weird stuck-up kid. That's a good move. Atlas may no longer be perfectly safe, but at this point Yang will settle for saf _er._ Anybody would settle for that right now.

Yang blinks at something bumping into her arm. She looks down to see Ruby leaning on her shoulder, fast asleep. They were watching over Penny together, who hasn't woken up in several hours, and it seems the day’s events have left Ruby exhausted too.

Yang can’t blame her.

She leans down, presses her cheek against Ruby's head, and closes her eyes with a sigh.

It was so easy to apologize for their earlier fight. It seemed so trivial compared to everything else they'd been through tonight.

She'd said sorry and Ruby said sorry, and they both said _I love you_ and that was it. At the end of the day, that's how it was always going to go. They have fights, but they always make up. 

They're sisters. 

They’ve done this before. Well, not _this_ , but they’ve fought before. It happens. They move on. 

What worries Yang more is that she hasn't really had an opportunity to talk to Blake. They _aren't_ sisters. Blake doesn't even _have_ siblings; Yang isn't sure if Blake knows you can really, truly disagree with someone and still love them wholeheartedly. Yang doesn't know if Blake holds a grudge over it or not, because she's quiet. Not to mention that all of this mess is bigger than them, and maybe this disagreement is something that only comes up later, when they have more space to be bitter and angry with one another.

Yang doesn’t know. Although she and Ruby have fought before, their team has never been so divided. And it feels so petty to be concerned about an argument when so much more is going wrong, but that doesn’t stop it from being on her mind. 

It is one worry among thousands. None of them are going anywhere.

She glances across the room to see Ren nodding off too. He started off in a chair next to Nora’s bed, her hand held in his. Now he’s slumped over, arms on the bed and head resting on top of his arms. She’s known him for years and is only now finding out that he snores. 

Jaune is not asleep. He has a furrow to his brow that’s been there since they left the whale. Yang knows he’s tired - she knows that his aura, normally just about inexhaustible, is all but gone. 

Perhaps he’s like her. Too worried to sleep, no matter how run down he may be.

She wants to say something encouraging. She doesn’t like the look in his eyes.

Her mouth parts. Nothing emerges. 

She wouldn’t want to want Ren and Ruby anyway, she tells herself.

Really, she can’t think of anything uplifting to say.

What do you say? What do you _do_?

How are they going to make it out of this one?

Yang can’t take on an entire army of Grimm. She can’t heal Nora or Penny. She’s too drained to protect anyone else, no matter how badly some people need it. 

She isn’t going to run, that’s not her way, but...there isn’t anything she can do to fix this. There’s nothing anyone can do. Yang hates that feeling more than anything.

Carefully, Yang wraps an arm around her sister and brings her even closer to herself. This is what she has in front of her. She has to be okay with that. 

She has to stay strong.

....

Oscar is extremely over being unconscious.

He's done with it. He's swearing it off after this, seriously, never again, because it's gotten old.

The sensation of waking up somewhere new, somewhere unsafe and unfamiliar - it's unnerving. It makes his mouth go dry and a tremor start up in his hands. It makes him want to run, to hide, to get to somewhere defendable where he can be safe. Or somewhere he can watch for them coming back -

Oh.

It's possible he is not completely over being tortured. He's just beginning to realize that.

Pushing past that, he takes in the room and tries to calm his heart. Because this is safe.

He can spot comics all over the place, posters on the walls, and an outdated photo of a familiar team on the bedside table - this is clearly Ruby's room.

That makes this Tai's house, which makes sense because the man was carrying him back here when things went fuzzy.

Oscar places a hand over his chest and takes a slow, deep breath.

He swears he can still feel some of her magic sparking in there. The pain has dwindled, however, and it feels incredible to be able to inhale without that terrible twinge every single time.

"Oz?" He mutters, then catches himself.

What a devastating feeling, to have part of him want to answer his own question. Oz is - gone, and not gone. Here and not at the same time. It's a whole mess that he's tired of trying to tidy up.

He wants to be done with that too; all his many identity crises. They are getting as old as his frequent trips into unconsciousness.

_That's a lot of things to be ignoring all at once_ , a small voice whispers in his mind.

It is not Oz, however much it might sound like him. It is Oz in the same way Oscar hears his aunt's voice sometimes, reminding him to wear warm clothes and to eat three meals a day - it is an echo, but no less real for it. No less important.

Oscar's going to ignore that too. It isn't what he should be concerned about. Instead, he holds up a palm and focuses for a moment.

Time to check on a few things.

Aura?

Shaky and low, but there again. It fizzles on in a display of trembling green when he calls for it.

His magic?

Also low. Or - no, that's not the right word for it, is it? Oscar thinks of his magic as a vast lake inside him. It's deep and green and beautiful, even if it has been slowly dwindling into something smaller and smaller over the years.

The lake remains unchanged unless he gives part of it away. Yet sometimes he has the strength to scoop out buckets worth; sometimes he has the strength to blast as much as he can. Other times, he lacks the strength to even skim the surface of the lake.

Today is one of those times. A pathetic green spark pops and disappears before his eyes, his body rejecting his request to use any more.

He's still too worn out.

But that's nothing new for him, is it?

“Hot chocolate. That will make you feel better.” He tells himself, trying to smile. “There’s nothing hot chocolate can’t fix.”

Going downstairs is a trial and a half. Oscar’s legs are steady when he stands, but they protest when he bends them and trips down the stairs. Even so, the need for a distraction and for a hot beverage is strong.

He holds onto the railing and makes it to the bottom with no further injury. He’s going to call that a win.

When he walks into the kitchen, he sees Taiyang already awake and seated at the table. Idly, Oscar wonders how long he slept. It doesn't feel like enough and the sun is still shining through the windows. Can't have been more than a few hours.

  
  


Hesitating in the doorway, Oscar notes that Tai has a mug of coffee in one hand and a scroll in the other hand, both limp and unmoving on the table. There’s a faraway look in his eyes that tells Oscar his mind is not here. It must be in Atlas, with his daughters. With his family.

Oscar opens his mouth, then stops. It’s silly. It’s - well. He doesn’t know what to call the man. He thinks Ozpin used to call him Mr. Xiao Long when he was a student, then Taiyang when he graduated.

Oscar has that memory, but he isn’t Ozpin. He is both much, much older and much, much younger than Tai, and he is at a complete loss on what name would be appropriate. He called him ‘Tai’ yesterday. Is that okay? Was that too informal?

Luckily, Tai notices him fairly quickly, before Oscar has to say anything.

“Oh, you’re up.” He blinks out of whatever stupor he was in, straightening up in his seat. “You...really didn’t sleep very long. How are you feeling -”

Tai pauses. He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t.

It hangs in the air anyway.

“How are you feeling, _Oscar_?”

“Better.” He says, validated that he isn’t the only one here struggling in what to call someone. “Um...thanks. For helping me. Do you have -”

At the same time Tai says,

“Did you want breakfast -”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you -”

“No, go ahead, I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine!”

It’s nice to know that Oscar is awkward with the entire Xiao Long/Rose family, not just Ruby. 

“Just. Um. Hot chocolate?” He asks in a small voice. If that is going to solve all his problems, he needs it _now_. New problems are emerging every second he's conscious, it feels like.

Taiyang smiles at him, sort of sheepish, and nods.

“Sure. I can do hot chocolate.”

  
  


….

Tai makes a mean hot cocoa.

Oscar’s heart stutters a second when he takes a sip. He knows this. This taste is familiar - it’s the same kind, made exactly the same way as the hot cocoa he used to put in his teapot at school. Or, Ozpin did. 

That - that was Ozpin. He thought it was amusing to have an ornately fancy teapot and never use it for tea. 

Oscar doesn’t like how it makes him want to grin. He doesn’t like how for a brief moment, he feels transported into a familiar office at the top of a familiar tower, head over his school once again. 

Then, he takes another sip, and the feeling recedes. 

It’s just a drink.

He realizes he closed his eyes and opens them, turning to gaze at Taiyang.

“Do you have any of those little marshmallows?” 

“Oh, yeah. I think we do. Ruby likes to put them in her coffee for some reason.”

Oscar can’t fight a smile at that.

“She was really upset to find out Atlas academy didn’t have any.” He recalls. “She made Weiss order some - said it was an official necessity for the team, or something.”

A laugh startles him into almost spilling his drink - and it wasn’t even that loud. Just a deep sound he wasn’t expecting, making him flinch.

He tries to brush it off, curling trembling hands around his mug.

“Sounds like Ruby.” Tai says. He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he slinks off his chair and rummages around in a few cupboards.

  
  


Oscar breathes in. He lets the moment of anxiety go.

"Yep. Here we go." Tai slides over a big bag of tiny, colorful marshmallows. "Now that you're more conscious, would it be alright if I asked you some questions?"

An ominous yet completely reasonable query. As he drops some marshmallows into his drink, he nods slowly.

"Sure, go ahead."

It's only fair, Oscar thinks. He wonders what Tai will ask about first. Ruby would have covered a lot in her recorded broadcast, but not all of it. Certainly Taiyang deserves answers. But...where to even _start_?

Leaning against the counter, Tai pours himself a second cup of coffee.

“Where are you from, Oscar?” He asks.

Oscar blinks. That wasn't the question he was expecting.

“Oh. I’m - I’m from Mistral. I live with my aunt - she has a farm a few hours out from Haven.”

“Haven, huh. That’s quite a ways away from here. Is that where you first ran into Ruby?”

Oscar's hands tighten ever so slightly around his mug of hot chocolate. Taiyang has been so kind, and he has every right to ask these questions, but Oscar is hyper aware that it could at any moment turn into a conversation of blame.

He would be lying if he said that didn't scare him.

“T-that’s right. We knew that Haven was most likely Salem’s next target, so we - _I_ went to go see the headmaster. That’s where I ran into Qrow and everyone.” 

“Hmm.” Tai takes a sip from his cup. “I’ve heard things about Haven. People saying Leo’s dead and the White Fang almost blew up the school.”

“It was a mess.” Oscar agrees. “And Leo’s death was….bad. Salem very nearly got the relic, too. It was thanks to Team RWBY that she didn’t. It was thanks to Yang.”

Tai breaks into a small smile - not at Leo’s death, of course, but at Yang’s name. 

It hurts to see. It hurts to talk about. For every one of their victories, it seems Oscar has a story of defeat to go with it. Sure, they saved the lamp then and _there_ , but then Oscar lost it to Neo in Atlas. Sure, they stopped Haven academy from being demolished, but they were too late to save Leo, and all the huntsmen and huntresses Salem had him send to their deaths. 

They stopped Ironwood from opening the vault and leaving Mantle to die. Yet they couldn’t do much to save Mantle themselves. 

Oscar helped his friends and got rid of Salem for a short while, but he also left them all alone to deal with everything else. 

It feels like he’s been taking one step forward, three steps back since he’s known about all this. 

  
  


“So,” Tai breaks through his thoughts. “How exactly did you all end up in Atlas? Seems like a long way to go from Haven Academy.”

“We thought it’d be safe for the relic.” Oscar says slowly, trying to shake off the downward spiral his mind is sinking into. “We thought - since the Spring Maiden disappeared and we couldn’t safely lock the relic back into the vault, going to Ironwood, to Atlas, was the next best thing.”

Tai’s face is solemn.

“Ruby said Ironwood can no longer be trusted.”

Tai doesn’t ask if this is true. He doesn’t seem to need more than his daughter’s word on the subject. Then again, he was never close to the other headmasters, not like Oz was - and certainly not like Qrow was, and Qrow never even _liked_ Ironwood.

“That’s right. He’s….Salem has made him very scared. He decided to leave Mantle to die so he could save Atlas and protect the relic. Um...we - we disagreed. With him.”

“Hmm.”

“W-what?”

The look on Tai's face is so strange. Even when he attempts a smile, the look doesn't fade. Oscar can’t read it.

“Nothing! Nothing. It’s just - you keep saying ‘we’.” 

Oscar's breath hitches. 

“Did you notice that?” Tai asks him. “I just can't tell - are you talking about you and team RWBY, or you and Oz?” 

Oscar didn't notice that. Or, he ignored it. Or - he's not sure himself. No more identity crises, he'd told himself, and yet here he is.

“Sorry.” Tai says softly, as though he can see the conflict on Oscar’s face. “Forget I mentioned it.”

  
  


Something drips down his cheek. He tries to swipe the tear away as quickly as possible, because he can’t do this, not here, not _now_. Tai doesn’t even really know him.

Oscar doesn’t even really -

“Sorry, sorry. This is so embarrassing.” Oscar tries to smile, to play it off. “It's been a really long day and I just - I don’t really know who I am right now.”

He didn’t mean to say that. He wasn’t supposed to say that.

He isn't supposed to _think_ that anymore.

Everything only gets worse when Tai sets down his mug, a very soft look on his face, and walks over to embrace him. 

Oscar shouldn't be doing this. Tai's busy worrying about his family, he should not have to comfort Oscar too. Not to mention that there is a lot Tai doesn't know about the situation and a lot he should be blaming Oz for.

Would Tai still try to comfort him if he knew that Salem can't be killed and Oz had made his daughters fight against her anyway?

Would Tai even want to look at him after that?

"Hey...it's okay."

Oscar knows that it's not and he doesn't know how to make things better. Tai is being so gentle, hesitant arms patting his back, and Oscar holds on knowing he doesn't deserve it. What kind of a person does that make him?

He holds on tight and he lets quiet tears pour down his cheeks. He's so tired. He's so scared.

Maybe this is exactly what he needs.

As long as Oscar doesn’t let go, Tai doesn’t either.

They sit like that for a long time.

....

Sometime after he’s cried himself out and his hot cocoa has gone cold, he finally pulls away.

One thing is still at the forefront of his brain. It’s a regret and a wish and a question all at the same time.

"Tai...um, I thought - w-why haven't you asked about my magic yet? I thought for sure you'd ask me to take you to Atlas."

Tai shakes his head, that small smile ever-present. Which - it shouldn’t be. Tai shouldn’t be showing him this much kindness. He shouldn’t be gazing at him like this, like he wants to protect Oscar, like he wants Oscar to be alright.

  
  


"No offense, Oscar, but you fainted like half an hour ago."

Oscar's face burns.

"I don't think you're in any condition to take anyone anywhere." Tai says. "Besides, we're working on something for that. We have a plan."

"...we? Who's 'we'?" He asks. He frowns. "Wait, what plan?"

Tai grins, bright and wide. 

“Let's just say I know a little birdie who happens to owe me a favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Ozcar: I'll keep all of my problems right here and then one day I'll die -  
> Ozcar:  
> Ozcar: oh
> 
> So Oscar does not appreciate lies, but he does have a tendency to minimize things. Especially trauma. 'It's a long story' instead of 'Ironwood tried to kill me', as an example. See also, when Jaune sort of attacks him in volume 6 and Oscar's like 'yeah that was bad! Time to get a new outfit and focus on other things!' which is not the healthiest approach to your problems, Oscar.
> 
> Stress shopping is not the answer to all your trauma, my son. 
> 
> I know a new episode of RWBY is coming out tomorrow and my fic will no longer be canonical, but I still feel like writing so I'm continuing this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
